


Embers

by Hello_fandoms



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hostage Situations, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Feels, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Precious Peter Parker, Teen Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:55:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28580859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_fandoms/pseuds/Hello_fandoms
Summary: It was all Tony's fault.If he would have just checked the pilots himself, this would have never happened. He and Peter would never have been taken hostage in the billionaire's own jet on the way to Disney World. On his own jet, for goodness sake. He should have just done a road trip and they could have listened to the Hamilton musical twice on the way. They had to fight their way out and Tony had to make a choice. It wasn't a hard choice - he would always choose Peter over himself - but he's worried that Peter won't want to be his intern anymore due to what they found out.
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 100





	Embers

**Author's Note:**

> I made this a while back. I hope you enjoy!

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

The sound of his own heart beating on the monitor had been Tony's only companion for the past ten minutes. He'd woken up with a nurse and doctor at his side, asking him a lot of questions. The doctor informed him that he was in a New Jersey hospital before giving him water. The lyrics from Hamilton's "Blow Us All Away" rang in his head: 'Everything is legal in New Jersey.' He hoped that wouldn't ring true in this case. 

The nurse and doctor had left shortly after taking his vitals and giving him water. At first, Tony was happy with the silence, but that joy was quickly dried away by the gaping black hole of loneliness that had closed in around him. 

He lied on his back, remaining careful still so not to agitate his bandaged burns on his left arm and side along with the bruises around his cracked rib on his right. Air moved in and out of him with measured, rhythmic breaths. 

In. Out. In. Out.

Tony had always hated hospitals or anything to do with doctors poking and prodding at him. Even when Edwin Jarvis or his mother took him for a yearly check up when he was young, he would do everything in his power to try and avoid the appointment. They always got there on time though, no matter his best efforts, and he would glare at the white walls, scrunch his nose up at the smell of antiseptic, and hold the hand of whoever he was with in a tight grip. 

His dislike never wavered, only growing as he got older. He only went if he needed to, and only then it was because Rhodey would threaten to carry him to his appointment, as he'd done multiple times back in college. Other times it was Happy tricking him to get in the car and go under the pretense they were getting coffee, or Pepper's soft words making him listen to her. 

Pepper was usually the one who came to all his appointments, even if she wasn't the one to get him there. She would place her hand on his arm if he needed a shot or let him bury his face in her shoulder when he had a deliriously high fever. Pepper might think he didn't remember when the latter happened, but he did. 

Afghanistan pushed that extreme dislike to hate. He could remember bits and pieces of the surgery Yinsen had done on him and they haunted his dreams sometimes. When he was rescued after three months in that horrible place, he had guarded his chest from any doctors. It had taken a lot of persuasion on Rhodey's part to get Tony to let them check his arm. It was dislocated, and Rhodey was the one to put the sling on. 

His next doctor's appointment was more him being rushed into the hospital with a cold that had turned into pneumonia due to his decreased lung capacity. 

After he got into the superhero business, he got hurt quite a lot. Nothing too serious, but Pepper insisted she bandage him up every single time. From nursing him with a concussion to bandaging the smallest cut, she took care of him even before they were an official couple. 

And here, lying in the dark hospital room with no one to keep him company, Tony wishes she were here. But if the clock on the wall is any indication, he hadn't been here for long and she would only be halfway back from China if she got on a plane right after the attack.

The attack.

Oh, how he'd been so blind...

Peter nearly got hurt so many times. The thought of Peter, the boy who had wormed his way into Tony's heart despite the metal barriers around it. The kid he thought of as his own son yet never admitted it to himself until a near-death experience. The only consolation of Peter almost being injured was that Tony took the hits for him, which resulted in the burns and bruises that would hurt him for at least a week or two. 

To think the day started off great.... 

It was a cool fall morning, Tony realized as he stepped out of his car in front of a slightly worn down Queens apartment building. He leaned against the sleek, black Audi, glad there weren't many people out and about right now, although he knew that would soon change. He glanced at his Starkphone, waiting for a text from a certain sixteen year old. 

He didn't have to wait long as Peter Parker came out of the glass doors, practically flying as he bounced down the concrete steps to meet him. Tony could practically feel his excitement from where he stood as he placed his phone back into his pocket. 

"Where are we going?" Peter immeadiately asked as Tony grabbed the overnight bag Tony asked him to pack and placed it in the backseat. "Are we going undercover? A top secret meeting? A convention? A science fair? A speech?" He rambled on, bouncing on his toes excitedly. 

Tony had told him not to bring the suit, as it wasn't a mission. Currently, the kid was wearing some faded blue jeans, some sneakers, and a MIT hoodie that Tony recognized as one of his own. It made his heart sweel with emotions that he didn't want to identify at that moment. He just knew that it made his chest warm and his smile a bit wider. 

The genius had saw how Peter had begun to push himself too hard as Spider-man and with his studies. The dark bags under the kid's eyes were deep and reminded him of himself as a teenager and now. The kid was too much like him and he needed to take a break. 

So that's why he decided to take him to the dreamland of every child. Disney World. It was a surprise of course, because Tony was nothing if not surprising. 

"Slow down," the genius said with a fond chuckle, placing his hand on Peter's shoulder as the teen gasped for breath. He hadn't stopped to get any air in his minute long ramble. 

"Where are we going?" Peter asked once more as Tony sat in the driver's seat. The teen slid into the seat beside him while the man adjusted the radio so it wouldn't hurt Peter's sensitive ears. 

"You'll see," Tony responded with a smirk. Peter groaned with impatience. "Would it help if I got you McDonalds?" 

The kid's eyes lit up with surprise and happiness at the prospect, but the elder genius watched as he tried to cover the expression quickly. "I-I'm alright, Mr. Stark. You don't have you get me anything." 

"Too late," Tony tutted as he pulled out a hidden bag from a compartment. He had made many modifications to the car, and one was heating compartments for food, so the two chicken biscuits and the hashbrowns were still warm. The aroma filled the car as Tony laughed at Peter's shocked face. He chucked the bag into the teen's lap. "Eat up, kid. We gotta get to the jet." 

"Where-"

"If you ask where we are going one more time for the next hour, we won't be listening to Hamilton on the jet." 

Peter's mouth closed, only opening to stuff a hashbrown in his mouth. 

They made it to the Starkjet within forty-five minutes. Tony would usually make it in twenty, but with Peter in the car he didn't want to speed. It would setting a bad example to his kid. 

Wait.... his kid? 

Where did that thought come from? Sure, he'd reflected that Peter was a lot like him and Tony wanted to help him not become who the elder genius once was, but son? Peter was his mentee, not his son. Not his kid. Just an intern who he liked to hang in the lab with, eat food with, play video games with...

Who was he kidding? Why would Peter want him for a Dad? Tony had already messed up so much in life and would have continued that bad streak if it hadn't been for uis eye opening experience. 

"Mr. Stark? Mr. Stark?" 

Tony blinked when Peter's hand suddenly waved in his face. "Huh? Oh, sorry, kid. Must have spaced out." 

Peter tilted his head curiously, opening his mouth to say something. The billionaire changed the subject before he could ask what he was thinking. "C'mon, we have a three hour flight ahead of us and the jet is waiting. Pepper wouldn't want us to be late," he said as he slid out of the car, slamming the door behind him. 

He grabbed Peter's bag from the back despite the kid's protest he could carry it himself, and then they were walking toward the jet with Stark emblazed on the side. Tony's bag was already inside and had been ready to go for a day now. Peter was a whirlwind of words and hand gestures at his side, excitement practically radiating off of him. He still had the bag of McDonald's in his left hand. 

"How can you be late when it is your jet?" Peter asked. 

Tony nearly paused in his tracks, a grin spreading over his face. He had asked a very similar question to Pepper back in 2008. "That's exactly what I have been asking. Seriously, it's my jet. How can I be late when I own it?" 

He and Peter got into a lively debate about the topic as they climbed the stairs. Tony waved to the pilot, who stepped out of the way to allow them through the doorway. The only reason he had a pilot was if something happened and FRIDAY could no longer control the jet. She could fly it herself and there was an unlikely chance of something happening, but Tony thought that it paid to be prepared. 

They were so immersed in their conversation that Tony didn't notice the expression his pilot had thrown his way. An expression Tony would have recognized instantly from all his years of reading people. An expression so eerily close to the one of Obadoah Stane that Tony would have hauled Peter over his shoulder and hustled out of there with the Iron Legion flying in. 

But he didn't see the expression and they took off the from the tarmac, heading toward the happiest place on Earth. 

They wouldn't get to their destination. 

Tony and Peter were halfway through the musical, singing along to "Non-stop" with no definite roles for either of them. Sometimes Tony was Aaron Burr and other times he played Alexander Hamilton. They switched up quite a bit and were belting out the end notes when the music stopped, all the lights went out, and they were falling out of the sky. 

Thankfully, they both had their seatbelts on. Tony would swear for the rest of his life that Peter's yell of fear was one of the most terrifying sounds he'd ever heard. 

The jet leveled out and the lights came on. Tony unbuckled his seatbelt and started marching toward the cockpit where the pilot would be, ready to demand an explanation. He heard Peter get up and before he could tell the kid to get back in his seat, the pilot was stepping out into the area. This time, Tony did see the look on his face. 

"Hello, Stark," the man said, holding some kind of device in his hand. Tony's brain was quick to go over the situation. He had no suit, Peter was with him, and there wasn't much he knew about the remote in the other man's hand. 

Two more cronies walked out of the cockpit, one carrying a box. An innocent, rectangle box. Tony felt a sense if dread begin to crawl up his throat from his stomach as he had a very good idea of what was in that box, only able to watch as it was handed off to the pilot. The other two men were also armed with a gun each and muscles that could snap Tony's neck if they got the chance. 

"In your seats," one barked. Tony backed up, hands already in the air. He had to lower one of them to stop Peter from moving forward. 

"Not right now," he hissed in Peter's ear. "Not now." 

Two minutes later, Tony and Peter were in their seats with guns to their heads. A guard stands beside each of them as the former pilot fiddled with the wall opposite to the door to outside of the jet, the now empty box tossed off to the side. The genius's mind raced to figure out the best course of action. The object being placed on the wall resembled something very familiar and it took Tony only a moment to realize that it was a Stark made bomb. Obadiah still haunted him to this day, it seemed. 

The bomb was not a very big one, but it would surely take out the jet in a series of small explosions. All three of the enemies were wearing parachute packs over their thick, black clothing. Tony glanced toward the back compartment where more were held. Hopefully they wouldn't have to use them. 

By this point, Tony knew that FRIDAY had already contacted Rhodey, Pepper, and whoever else needed to know. As they sat here, he was certain the War Machine armor was coming for them. The thought comforted Tony, if only a little. His heart still pounded in his ears and his whole body was tense, but it gave him some hope. He kept glancing at Peter, making sure the kid wouldn't try to attack one of the people holding them hostage. These guys weren't just armed with normal weaponry. They had Stark weapons. 

The knowledge that his weapons were still out there made Tony queasy and upset at himself. He was supposed to get rid of his weapons, yet here some were. 

He uninvoluntarily jumped a little as his arm was nudged. He looked to his left to see Peter, looking up at his with those giant brown eyes. 'Are you okay?' Peter mouthed to him. Not wanting to risk moving again as the gun was now pressed a bit harder into his temple, he moved his eyeballs up and down, hoping that was understandable. By the teen's look, he understood what it meant, but didn't believe him.

Once more, Tony thought about how he did not deserve to even be around Peter Parker, yet the vigilante trusted him. How? Tony didn't know. 

"Not going to talk?" The pilot asked, causing Tony and Peter to both glare at him. Tony felt just a slimmer of pride at the teen for being so brave in this situation, but also wanted to facepalm. Glares would no doubt rile the enemy up and that was Tony's job. 

"I bet you're wondering how we got your weapons, Mr. Stark," the man crooned, an evil smirk on his face as he walked toward them. Peter gasped quietly and Tony nearly recoiled. Yes, it was known he had made weapons, but seeing them was different. They were menacing, sleek, and clearly dangerous. Peter definetly hated him now. 

Not wanting to see the kid's expression, he hardened his gaze onto the boss. "Yeah, I am," he practically growled. 

"It's because you didn't do a good enough of a job." 

As far as villainous reasons went, that was the best one Tony had heard. It was Tony's fault. Everything was Tony's fault. 

"Mr. Stark..." Peter's voice was small and Tony interpreted it as fear, but before he could hear the rest of what he wanted to say, the gun that was formerly to Peter's temple reared back. The man was clearly ready to walk the kid across the head. 

"Don't!" Tony barked with enough venom to get the gun to pause in its tracks. 

"And why, pray tell, should I?" The man asked. 

"Because if you do, you won't live to see tomorrow." An empty threat on Tony's part, but he said it with enough vindictiveness to be believed. He wouldn't kill him, but he would be in a world of pain if he laid a single hand on Peter's hair. 

A bit of fear actually creeped into the man's eyes and he backed off a bit, not even raising the gun to it's original position. Peter took that as initiative to strike. Before Tony could stop him, the kid had punched the man across the face and caused him to drop his gun. The two were engaged in a swift fight with blurred limbs. The thick outfit worked like a shield to the bulky man and Peter's hits only seemed to elicit a small grunt or wince. Peter held his own well, not one hit landing on him. Yet. 

The man that previously had a gun to Tony's head jumped into the fight. The genius jumped up and used his momentum to push him away from his kid, sending them both tumbling to the ground with a series of grunts. The gun fell to the ground with a clatter and Tony kicked it away with his foot, watching as it hid near Peter's backpack.

His kid. 

He thought it again. 

Tony's momentary distraction gave cronie number 2 an opening to punch. The brunette just barely rolled out of the way, landing on the floor and scrambling to his feet. He tried to recall his sparring lessons with Romanoff as the guy jumped onto his feet and charged. Tony blocked a kick and a punch, sweeping his leg out and causing the guy to stumble. He only had a moment to cheer for himself when a punch hit his side. He only then noticed the brass knuckles. Tony also realized how much they hurt. 

Doubled over, out of breath, and whited out vision from pain, Tony was thrown to the side like a sack of potatoes. He got his wits back just in time to kick out and hit the man in the leg, right under his knee, and causing it to collapse. The brunette turned away, wheezing in a breath around the pain still exploding from his rib cage, and saw his former pilot pressing a button on the bomb. 

Tony climbed back to his feet and ran toward him as best he could, stumbling a bit. The pilot dodged his first hit, but Tony got him in the stomach hard enough to send him to the ground. "Stop it," Tony ordered, glancing at the remote in the man's hand. 

All he got in response was him breaking the remote with a sickening 'snap.' "Bye bye, Mr. Stark. In five minutes, you and your little mentee will be dead and gone. I didn't want to bring a child into this, but you left me with no choice."

Tony was already turning around before villain of the week could finish his monologue. "Kid!" He yelled as he ran, ignoring the jarring pain in his right side whenever he stepped forward. Most definetly bruised ribs, if not cracked. 

"Mr. Stark!" Peter yelled, momentarily distracted. Cronie number 1 went in for a punch and Tony jumped on his back, wrapping one arm around his neck and the other blinding him. The man yelled out and stumbled around as Peter was forced to engage in another fight with recently-recovered cronie number 2. 

A gunshot went off and Tony's blood ran cold. He lost his grip around the man's eyes and was forced to grab onto him by the shirt as he was tossed around. His breathing was fast as he searched for where the bullet went, as it had been fired from cronie number one. There was no red on Peter's clothes and he saw the bullet embedded in the ground five feet away. He slackened his hold due to relief, which was a really big mistake. 

"Don! James! Let's get out of here!" 

Cronie number 2 elbowed Tony in the side and the genius saw white once more as pain laced through his body. He was chucked toward the seats and his injured side was abused again as he landed on the arm rest. There was no doubt about his ribs being cracked now. 

Peter helped him up just as the door was pushed open. The air wasn't sucked out of the room as the jet had been lowered and slowed earlier. The two cronies and their boss jumped out. 

"Go get parachutes, kid. In the compartment. Quickly." Tony only managed to point at the nearly hidden door, leaned against the seat as he tried to get his breathing back up under control. He surveyed the kid as he ran off to do as told. No limbs, no visible bruises, no blood. He looked alright and Tony let himself relax for a moment, relieved he was okay. 

Peter came back, but he only had one parachute pack. Coupled with despondent expression on his face, Tony knew it was the only pack. It was a smaller one and Tony knew that it would only carry one of them. "What do we-"

"Put it on, Pete." 

"But-"

"Put it on. Trust me," Tony basically pleaded. Begged. Peter must have saw something in his eyes as he put on the pack obediently. The man leaned forward and fastened it, checking straps and looking for any damage. "Alright, c'mon." He pulled himself up to stand, hissing as more pain lanced up his side. Peter reached out to help, but Tony waved him off and walked forward. Peter followed. 

"Here's what we're going to do," Tony said when they were a few feet away from the door. He glanced over his shoulder, old eyes straining to see the bright red letters of the bomb's countdown. 38 seconds. "You're going to jump and I'm going to follow." He unhooked the helmet from Peter's pack and placed in over the teen's head. "As soon as the automated voice tells you to, pull the string." 

"What about you?" Tony felt his heart skip a beat at the worry evident in Peter's voice and face. 

The genius smiled falsely, imitating confidence he didn't feel just to assure the kid. "I'll be fine, kid," he lied. His stomach sank as he spoke the words, nearly having to turn away from the vulnerable eyes boring so hard into his that he thought Peter could see his soul. His lie was believed, though, as the kid turned toward the door. Tony placed a hand on his shoulder and his kid looked back at him. 

His kid. His son. The person he was lying to just to keep him safe, at the cost of Tony's own life. 

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"Yeah, I will be." Tony glanced back at the bomb. 13 seconds. The unlucky number. His false facade fell as the reality of the situation settled in, and no matter how fast he put back the fake confidence, Peter still saw it. 

"Mr. Stark, what's wr-" 

"Go, kid!" He pushed Peter out of the jet and watched as the teen fell toward the clear pasture below. Tony's heart went with him. The air in Tony's lungs was frozen until he saw the parachute open, the blue STARK logo spread out on the material. He glanced back at the timer. 

3....

He sucked in a breath and crouched at the doorway despite the harsh twinge it caused his ribs, left side turned toward the bomb, knowing there was no way to get out of this. His safe spots on the jet wouldn't stand up to that bomb. He designed it himself. He knew what it would do. He watched Peter closely as he drifted down towards Earth, away from the horror that was about to happen. 

2...

He thought of Pepper, the love of his life. He thought of Rhodey and Happy, his best friends for the longest time. He thought of the Avengers and how they ended. Would they be able to stand up and beat the threat that Tony had told them that was coming for so long? 

1....

He closed his eyes and let out his breath. At least he was able to save Peter. 

0\. 

Multiple explosions went off, one after the other. Tony felt heat engulf his side just before the sheer force of the blast sent him out of the jet. He opened his eyes just enough to watch the jet break apart into a halo of fire. Explosions were still going off, each one stronger. There would be nothing left to hit the ground. 

He also saw something he didn't expect. 

War Machine armor. 

He was caught in the arms of a metal angel before he fell unconcious. 

Tony raised his left hand and started picking at the thick patch on his forehead where he'd been struck by a piece of the jet, but stopped when the door slowly creaked open. Light spilled into the previously dark room and Tony's first guess to who was at the door was Rhodey. His best friend, by what the nurse had told him, was filling out forms and looking for Tony and Peter's attackers. His second guess was Happy, but that was quickly shot down as his bodyguard and trusted friend was visiting family in London. 

Peter Parker's head peeked around the door, brown eyes landing on him and Tony knew that feigning sleep to avoid a needed discussion was not optional at this point. 

The kid shuffled in, wearing the same clothes he had been wearing that morning, if a bit more ruffled than they had been. Tony wasn't sure what time it was, but his inner clock and stomach said that it was a bit passed dinner time. What he would do to have a cheeseburger right now. 

"Mr. Stark?" Before the man in question could respond, Peter launched into a tirade of fast words and animated hands. "I'm really sorry I wasn't able to stop them. I should have been good, just like you told me to be, but I wasn't. I didn't realize it was a bomb until it was too late and then you got injured because of me-"

"Hey, hey, hey, kid, look at me," Tony pushed himself up with his good arm, leaning heavily on his elbow. Peter stilled, his eyes downcast as he picked at an imaginary piece of lint on his hoodie sleeve. "It wasn't your fault. It was mine." 

Peter's head snapped up, mouth open to say something, but Tony cut him off before he could. "None of what happened was your fault. I should have ran a better background check on who was flying the jet. I should have made sure all the parachutes were there. I should have been able to stop him because I am Ironman, with or without the suit. I'm the one who's sorry, kid."

"It wasn't your fault, Mr. Stark," Peter insisted, walking toward the bed. "They- Mr. Rhodes and some other people- got the security footage. They tore up the other parachutes right before we got on. They must have left one by accident." The heart monitor made a few annoyingly fast beeps as Tony realized how close it had been to Peter not having a way out. He took a deep breath to try and steady his racing heart, attention still on Peter. 

The kid hesitantly sat on the edge of the bed, near Tony's feet. He folded his hands in his lap, looking unsure of himself. "The imposter pilot knocked out the real pilot sometime this morning. They were identical twins - so FRIDAY wasn't able to tell the difference on surface level." His feet kicked at the air and he turned his head away, looking at the door. "You were really awesome in the fight, Mr. Stark." He mumbled. 

Tony couldn't help but grin. "That's high praise, kid. I'm honored." He thought he saw an embarrassed smile on Peter's face, but it was hidden by shadows. His voice turned softer. "You were really brave today, Pete. A little reckless, but brave. I'm proud of you." 

Peter's head turned toward him and with the dim moonlight coming from the window, he could see the glassy sheen of tears in Peter's eyes. "Really?"

"Really." He held out his injured arm as best he could and that was all the invitation the kid needed before he was crawling into Tony's embrace, careful not to press any weight on his injured sides. Tony leaned back into the pillows, wrapping his uninjured arm around him. 

"Why did you do that, Mr. Stark?"

Tony hummed. "Do what?"

"Give me the parachute. Did you know War Machine was coming?"

The brunette but his lip and thought about lying, but ended up telling the truth. "No, I didn't, kid. I just knew that I wanted you safe no matter the cost." 

Everything was silent for a moment besides the beeping of the monitor and their synchronized breathing. "I was really scared today, Peter, because I thought I was going to lose you." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "And because... I thought I'd never get to tell you..."

"Tell me what?" Peter asked quietly, the side of his head pressed against Tony's chest where the Arc Reactor used to be, looking up at him with those familiar brown eyes. 

"I thought I would never get to tell you how much you mean to me. How much... I love you. You're like my own son, kid-" his voice broke off, his throat closing up with emotions. All was quiet for another moment, and Tony thought he had overstepped and destroyed the relationship he did have with Peter. Just as his heart began to pick up speed, the kid finally spoke up. 

"You're like my dad, too. You watch over me, you protect me, you give me advice, you hand out with me- I just didn't know if you felt the same." 

"I do, kid." He pressed his chin onto the top of Peter's head, the brown locks tickling his neck. "I love you, son."

He felt Peter's breathing hitch up before his kid pressed his head further into Tony's chest. His kid. His son. Tony felt tears at the corners of his eyes as his heart threatened to burst with the love that he was now allowed to show. "I love you, too, Dad." 

Tony closed his eyes with a small smile as be tightened his grip around Peter protectively. "I think I'm done with jets for a little while. How about we take a road trip instead?"

"That sounds like fun," Peter said, voice slurred a little with sleep. All the stress had left his small body and Tony knew he was exhausted. The man himself felt tired despite the hours of being unconcious. That didn't count as sleep though, did it? "Where were we going, anyway?"

"... Disney World." 

Tony had to move his head as Peter turned to look at him with wide eyes. "Disney World?!" He whisper yelled, excitement covering his face. The older genius couldn't help but laugh a bit. 

"Yeah, kiddo, and we'll be going again as soon as possible."

"Once you're healed and not before that," Peter said sternly, pointing his finger at Tony. 

"You sound like Pepper," he groaned, but a smile pulled at his lips. 

Peter raised an eyebrow and spoke with an unusual finality. "Because she's always right."

"Can't argue there, son."

Peter preened at the term and snuggled closer once more, allowing Tony's head to rest on his head once more. It wasn't long before both of them were asleep.


End file.
